Tag Archives: John Winchurch

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Buttercup Madness And Thoughts Of Cornwall

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John In The Buttercup Field - Reunion Day May 2008

When my husband John and I began our long distance romance in early 2008, I was slightly obsessed with trying to get back to Cornwall in time to see what we refer to as the buttercup field. Standing in the field during my first trip to meet him that February, I couldn’t wait to see it again after hearing him describe how the green space would be a golden carpet of buttercups by May.

My imagination didn’t prepare me for the sight that greeted me when I made back three months later. As you can see by the photo above it was just as he said it would be, a beautiful field of gold.

Elizabeth Harper - Buttercup Field In Cornwall - May 2008

It pains me to know that I am missing the summer glory of buttercups and wildflowers that take Cornwall even higher on the beauty scale and I know that John is missing being able to share it with me.

He’s been sending me photographs which help a bit, but I feel quite desperate at times to get back to him and to our home life. It looks as if I will be in Atlanta for the summer and while my friends and family are doing much to make my stay more bearable, I find I cannot dwell too much on what’s happening at home in Cornwall when I am so far from it.

John sent me the photograph below that he took recently of the buttercup field and as pretty as it is it’s missing a little something and that something is me!

Photo Of Buttercup Field By John Winchurch - June 2011

John Winchurch & Elizabeth Harper - 2008

 

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Spinning For England

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Elizabeth Back In Her Spinning Days (Note My Smaller Size)

When my husband John wants to say someone is a champion at whatever activity they are engaged in, he uses the expression “ ________ for England!”  You can fill in the blank with what ever works for you. The other day we were discussing his childhood and he said his younger brother could sleep for England when he was a kid and I thought of that this morning after my spin class.

Spin class! I know you’re probably thinking, what is Elizabeth talking about and where is she? I’m still in Atlanta with what looks like a summer here before me and while I’m doing more than just trying to diminish the extra girth gained during my halcyon days of sausage, chips and egg meals in Cornwall, getting fit has also become a priority.

While I wouldn’t exactly admit to eating for England, I have put some real effort into sampling a variety of food combinations I would have likely avoided while living in the US. Before moving to Cornwall, I generally counted fat grams like a deep-sea diver would the remaining air in her tanks, but I will admit that sometimes I strayed from the path on my own so I can’t blame it all on my move to the UK.

I found my inner baker in Cornwall as some of the folks in my village could tell you and I discovered that sharing whatever I was whipping up in the kitchen with my neighbors was better alternative than freezing it for later. Anyone with a decent sized sweet tooth can tell you that frozen cookies taste almost as good going down as those eaten hot out of oven. You just have to exercise a bit of caution so you don’t chip a tooth as you sneak a cold one on your way past the freezer.

Poor John has more than a time or two gone in search of a little home-baked goody he saw go into the deep freeze only to discover after a through search of the contents, that some cookie monster had been there before him.

Going back what I said earlier about spinning … to maintain my sanity while I am sweltering through endless days of temperatures in the high 90s, I’ve joined a local gym so I can spin on their bikes in classes designed to work the weight right off your backside and other tubby places.

So far, it’s been great!  The instructor said this morning that I was doing really well and that my body seemed to have good muscle memory. I know she meant that I had picked it back up as if I’d not been away from it for so long, but it’s actually been about seven years since I was on a spin bike with any real consistency.

Thank goodness my muscles can remember what a good workout feels like because I think I had pretty much forgotten. That said, I am loving the classes and as John might say, “ I’m spinning for England! “

And just in case you’re wondering … I’m down seven pounds so far and my cycle shoes haven’t even arrived from Cornwall yet.

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Jersey Baby Girl Comes Home

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Okay, so I’m not being very original with my blog name for the newest member of the family, but I thought Jersey Baby Girl would work for a while. I intend to refer to her most often as JBG for short and will likely shorten Jersey Girl’s name to JG. I hope it doesn’t get too complicated.

My friend Patrice and I were talking about this last night and how some people go their whole lives being called by a nickname. She said she grew up with a much older cousin who everyone always called Baby Sister and to this day she’s not sure what her cousin’s name really was on her birth certificate.

John’s been having all the fun (I’m so jealous) and doing a great job of taking care of Jersey Girl while her mother and baby sister were in the hospital. They both came home a few days ago and I wanted to share some of the sweet pictures John and others have taken that show what I’ve been missing.

Mom shares a moment with her Jersey Girls

I wonder what he’s thinking here …

John with both of his granddaughters.

That baby looks hungry to me.

Jersey Girl gives Boris the Bear a peek at her baby sister. The crates you see behind JBG’s head are there because they moved into their new home by the sea just before she was born.

Mom out walking with her girls.

JG clowning for the camera in a hat and shirt that John and I gave her two years ago for her birthday. She finally grew into them. My daughter Miranda would tell you that I always bought her clothes about two sizes too big when she was a little girl too. John said she came downstairs wearing the hat and shirt and announced that these were things we had given her for her fifth birthday.


I just hate missing these sweet moments. John’s been sending loads of pictures which help, but I wish I could have been there too.

John with his youngest daughter Rachel and her new little JBG.

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UK Census 2011, Clues For The Future

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It’s census time here and all across the UK, people are either filling out forms on paper or adding their details online. John and I did both. He’s saving the paper copy with the family bible and some other documents providing an easy paper trail for future generations who might be interested in looking back at their family history.

Since I filled out my own details in the section for ‘ Person 2 ‘ in the house on March 27, 2011, it was interesting to see my American side showing itself as I started off by putting an x in boxes instead of tick mark as they call a check mark here. I’m afraid I did not read the directions as is my way and habit took over. (click on the highlighted area for a photo of us from my first visit)

It’s kind of funny to think about how different things such as blogging will make tracking an ancestor easier in the future. There is likely to be a record of my 400 posts as of today on this blog and the 82 other posts found on my first GOTJ blog.

If I want to know more about my family history, I have to search through old census records like this one from June 19, 1900. My mother complied two binders with loads of family details, but hit some sort of dead end when it came to my great-grandmother on her maternal side. I did a little snooping last night by going to Family Search, a free information site in the US to look for my great-grandmother and some of her immediate family. (Click twice to enlarge any photo)

Here you can see Bessie L. (Lee) Hood was 19 and still at home on June 19, 1900 when the census was taken and you can see her mother, Cornelia was slightly older than her father, John. I could also tell what they did for a living and that they lived in Sparta, a detail that could be helpful in tracking back in time for more clues.

The 2011 UK Census results will not be released until 100 years from now to protect the privacy of people while they are living. As that will be 150 years after my date of birth, I expect it will be my great-great grandchildren (if there are any ) who will look over the census records and say, ” Look there’s where great-great-grandma Elizabeth Harper followed her heart to the UK, marrying a Winchurch and becoming the first in the family to have a dual citizenship. ”  Then one will likely turn to the other with a slightly superior look and say, ” I knew that already, because I read her blog. “

I had to add that last sentence about reading the blog as it’s become a bit of a joke with me. When topics come up in passing about local happenings and someone says they hadn’t heard whatever we happen to be discussing, I say ,” You mean you didn’t know that? ” Which I follow up with,” You would … if you read my blog! “

 

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A Georgia Transplant’s Dogwood Days In Cornwall

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Dogwood trees in the American south are some of the early signs of spring and one of the things I missed about my home in Georgia when I moved to the UK. I had no idea they grew in Cornwall as my first spring here came and went without the unmistakable explosion of blooming color.

We were well into a month I would normally associate with summer time when I discovered some gorgeous dogwood trees during a garden walk at Lanhydrock, one of my favorite National Trust properties. Noting my delight, my sweet husband John surprised me with one on a birthday trip later that year.

My dogwood has been growing in a pot outside since we brought it home, living through the building extension, waiting to be planted in a place in the garden where I might see it from my desk as I write. Last winter, Cornwall was blasted with freezing temperatures unusual for this part of England and I worried all the way from New Zealand where we were on an extended holiday, that it might die from the cold sitting outside in its container.

A few days ago, John gently cleaned my little tree of all the dead leaves still clinging to its branches and noted as he did so that it had new leaves. I was thrilled to hear this as I had not held out much hope as poorly as it looked a few weeks ago.

I have to thank Mary for her words and beautiful images this morning. Seeing her dogwood trees in flower made me take a closer look at my special tree. While my tiny dogwood is not in full bloom yet, it looks as if it may have flowers for the very first time later this year.

If you click twice on these photos, you can see some texture that reminds me of the fuzzy softness of a newborn lamb’s ears.

I had to add this imperfect photo which turned out to be my favorite. I went outside twice this morning in my robe and bare feet to photograph my tree and ended up loving the way my robe picks up the color in the tiny dot of pink near the bud on the tree. (Click twice to see)

* The burgundy colored robe I’m wearing was my dad’s and has kept me warm on many cold mornings in the twenty years since his death. There’s something kind of special about seeing it sneak into my dogwood picture along with my barefoot completely unnoticed by me until I downloaded the image. I’m usually pretty aware of what else might be happening when I shoot and was pleased to see this one got past me.

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Branching Out – Tales Of The Traveling Twisted Willow

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Baby John With His Mother, Margaret Winchurch - 1943

Eighteen years ago, my husband’s mother died. She had not been in the best of health, but her death was still unexpected when it occurred. It happened fast, one minute she was going about her life and 36 hours into a hospitalization for stomach pain, she was gone.

A few days before she died she was still well enough to be making floral arrangements for her home and had put a bunch of cut branches from a twisted willow tree in her garden, into a vase of water. The cuttings were still there when my husband John noticed them a few weeks after her funeral while stopping by to check on his dad.

Even though there was little water left in the vase, they had been there so long they were putting out roots. He picked up a handful of the cuttings as he was leaving, and took them home to plant around his house. Moving five times during the eighteen years since her death, he’s always taken a few cuttings grown from the original twisted willow that he found in the vase that day.

I loved the twisted willow that John had planted in the garden right from the beginning, at first because it was so pretty, and even more after he told me the story of how pieces of it had moved with him over the years. My grandmother was always picking up cuttings or passing them on and the story he told reminded me of how she would pinch off a piece of something I’d admired and send me off with directions on how to make it grow.

Two days ago, I was disappointed when John said that he had done a massive pruning of the twisted willow plants in the front garden. I love the way they create a green barrier throughout much of the year making our front outdoor space feel much larger and more private than it actually is. They grow so fast and thick that I know he was right to prune them as he did, but I was still sad to see the large cuttings laid out nearby.

Later that day, I was on my way to meet a friend from the village at the mobile library van and on impulse, I picked up a branch to take along to her thinking she might have a place for it somewhere. I left it outside her gate when I went on the van and forgot until I got home that I had not actually given it to her.

After leaving her a message on Facebook, another friend from the village saw it and asked if she might have a cutting too. I was delighted to share more of the twisted willow and even left another piece for a third friend in the village who then asked if her future mother-in-law might have some as well.

Today’s post is an updated version of one I wrote here, where I shared a story of how two friends I met through blogging who came to our village back in 2009. I sent them home with a small piece of twisted willow so there are more plants from the original cuttings growing somewhere closer to London now too.

Considering the amount of cuttings being passed around along with the twisted willow plants left in the ground at the five homes where John planted it over the last eighteen years, and you can easily see why I chose the title I did.

John thinks this vase is the same one he took the cuttings from after his mother died. He put some twisted willow in it this morning and I could not resist taking a quick photo to include with the post.

As focused as I am on telling the stories of my life, I can’t tell you how much it makes me smile to be able to share a sweet part of John’s story. Never having met his mother, I can’t know what type of relationship might have developed between us, but I do know that it makes me feel good to be able to share cuttings from the last plant she took from her garden before she died.

The new leaves are coming out now with the change in the season and by next spring, plants descended from Margaret’s twisted willow arrangement will be growing in gardens all around our village. I wonder what she’d think of that.

 

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A Dewdrop Hammock & A Snowdrop Day

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Today began with clouds so thick I could not see beyond the roof of the houses across from us. After a night of fierce sounding wind and rain, I was ready to wake to something more welcoming than another grey day. John said the morning mist was a good sign and usually meant that blue skies were there waiting for it to burn off.

He’s usually right about these things and today was no exception. After a late breakfast, we headed out with our cameras searching for snowdrops. John took me to this hill a few years ago which is always covered with them when they’re in season.

You have to get low to the ground to get them from this angle which can be a bit funny when the ground is damp and the slope makes you slide.

The churchyard had patches of snowdrops in places too, but only in a few spots.

Snowdrops grow wild here. Google sent me to a link that said they grow in America, but I’ve never seen them there before.

How about you … are snowdrops a part of your landscape?

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A Day At The Beach Shown In Reverse

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Thanks so much for all of your good wishes and kind thoughts for our anniversary. We had a fun day out despite the weather and the rain held off until we made it home from our beach walk and a special lunch at Fifteen.

Some of you may remember that John took me to Fifteen for our first anniversary (click to see) last year. It can be difficult to get reservations unless you book well in advance especially during the warmer months of the year, but he was able to secure a table with a window view with as late as last week. I’ll say more later since the photos are in reverse today. You can get a glimpse of the building that the restaurant is housed in by looking over the top of John’s head.

John headed down the beach ahead of me after lunch.

I tend to lag behind taking photos and often have to run to catch up like you see in the image above.

Now we’re just trading shots across the beach with John trying to get back to the car because it’s chilly and he did not bring a heavy coat.

The wind was pretty fierce and you can see by double clicking on this photo that the little boy in it is looking up because he’s lost something to the wind. It kind of looks like a baby bib to me … what do you think?

John got this picture of me with Fifteen in the background. Our table was about midway down the upper level of windows. I think I was photographing the family with children in this shot.

Inside Fifteen - Watergate Beach, Cornwall

John tried to get a photograph of our waiter/server, Nick so I could put it here with my review of his service. He was fabulous and I would recommend if you book a table at Fifteen in Cornwall, ask for Nick. Not only was he fast as you can see by his blurred image above, he was very food knowledgeable and a surf instructor too.

There was someone outside doing something called Kite Surfing(new to me) and Nick took time to discuss the challenges of kite surfing as well answering my questions about the best beaches in Cornwall for a novice like myself to learn to surf.

You might think this strange information for him to be chatting about while taking care of our food needs, but I asked him a few questions as I usually do when meeting new folks and before I had attacked my main course I was thinking about my wet suit and wondering if I might still be able to learn to surf.

You are looking at a yummy dessert John and I ordered. It is chocolate cake obviously, but what it not so obvious is that it has beets in it. See the red layer …  it’s what they call beet root here.

This was our cake before we devoured it. An amazing feat as stuffed as we were by then.’ Stuffed …’ you might ask, then why order dessert? Fifteen has a fixed price lunch option that includes three courses, so full or not, I was not skipping dessert. Plus it’s my favorite part of a meal!

John began his meal with fish before moving on to Cornish pheasant and I had a Tuscan bean soup that was so rich I wanted scoop it up with the thick slices of bread Nick brought to the table. I followed my soup with the lightest, best tasting gnocchi I have ever put in my mouth. I’m afraid I was too busy eating to photograph my food.

Here you can see the kite surfer I mentioned earlier.

Finally, we are back at the beginning where I took a quick photo of John just before we walked down the steps to have lunch.

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Silent Unspoken Memories

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John and Elizabeth - February 2, 2009

It’s been two years since we made our promises in front of family and friends and it feels like both yesterday and forever. I knew eight weeks after our first email that I wanted to have forever with this man and I knew without speaking that he wanted it too. Some things are so right you don’t even hesitate, no looking back, so second guesses, you just know that you are where you are meant to be.


To Be One With Each Other

What greater thing is there for two human souls

than to feel that they are joined together to strengthen

each other in all labor, to minister to each other in all sorrow,

to share with each other in all gladness,

to be one with each other in the

silent unspoken memories.

~ George Eliot

 

John and Elizabeth - Coromandel Town, NZ - 11/11/2010

If you are new to Gifts Of The Journey you might enjoy reading and seeing some of our early moments together. Click on the colored links above and it will be like you were there with us.

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Completion – 2011 Is About – Completion

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I chose this photo John took of me because it looks as if I am a bit overwhelmed which is how I feel at times heading into this new year thinking of all that must be completed.

Creative projects and story ideas trail after me like streaming ribbons on a kite’s tail each temporarily aloft when the power of a strong wind lifts them or my feet move fast enough to keep them up in the air. Never one to be at a loss for inspiration, I struggle with another aspect which is equally important … completion.

This is not to say that I don’t get things done because I recognize the power I have to do what some might consider impossible. My history is made up of multiple instances where even I can look back and say with a bit of astonishment, ” How did I do that ? ”

But when it comes to some of the more creative things, I tend to get bogged down in details that can derail an idea or project fairly quickly pushing it to the backseat while the newer, prettier one gets to sit up front with me like a favored child for the day.

While I often take huge leaps of faith in some areas, when it comes to the creative areas of my life, I tend to research too long or look to those who have gone before for guidance and direction when if I just get in the car and go, basic directions and intuition can usually take me to the place I need to be.

I have a long list of things which must be completed in 2011 some of which are practical and important for everyday life while others are necessary for my creative spirit which is really my foundation and a sort of gas tank that fuels my enthusiasm for daily life.

January is all about the practical as immigration issues loom large with testing, large cash outlays, appointments, and interviews, all requiring my immediate and focused attention. Add to that, my UK driving test must be taken with both theory and practical tests as I have been here way too long to be driving with my American license and you may begin to see why I am obsessing a bit about completion.

While John and I together and individually had the good fortune to spend much of 2010 traveling, this year will find me staying and working on projects closer to our home in Cornwall. I am looking forward to planting myself in one place for the bulk of the year with only short trips away and a few extended visits to see my family in America. Knowing from experience what it takes for me to accomplish a task, I think some of my many creative goals will certainly be able to be completed during this new year.

One of my Big Bag Of Dreams Goals that I spoke about here will have to wait another year even though it’s been throughly researched and planned. Based on where I am with other goals on my list, hosting my BBOD’s workshop this year feels like skipping a few chapters when reading a ” how to ” book so I am putting it in the backseat until next year. The favored front seat has a long list of occupants waiting for their spin around the block and if I can keep the pushing and shoving to a minimum, I think I might be able to give most them a turn.

Completion is often defined as ” The act or process of completing or the quality or state of being complete. ”

While I don’t feel a need to tick off boxes each day to note what I’ve accomplished, I do see how the act of completing certain goals can help one feel more complete, a word which in its first part is defined as ” having all necessary parts. ”

In 2011, I will be working on completion. Have you chosen a word to guide you through this year or a particular goal that tops your list? If you have, please share it below and include a link if you’ve written about it somewhere. Feel free to think about it and come back later to share too.

Here’s to dreaming and doing in this new year !

I want to thank Marie Scudder for her post over at Vision and Verb today. My one word post for 2011 was still trying to gel until I read what she had to say in her piece, ” Paper and String.”